parts of Wausau—including the part I happened to pick to dwell in—had a dangerous past and present to them, and not even a month into my stay, I found out from various people that there were drug busts right across the street from me, in another apartment house which I had considered renting. Apparently, the police recently had drug-sniffing dogs search the entire apartment, leading to the arrest of a half-dozen ne’er-do-wells. Also, the cops, whose headquarters were just two blocks down, had busted a couple right in front of my apartment for drugs. I witnessed the man and woman being handcuffed, sprawled against the police car, kept pinned there by a broad-backed cop, while a drug-sniffing dog, an enormous German shepherd, searched their car. Further, there were two warring gangs of teenagers in town. One faction had stabbed one of their foes and left the poor shmuck for dead; there was a bank robbery in the downtown, ending in a shoot-out in a park. One of my acquaintances advised me not to leave my wheelchair outside the Catholic Church because it would probably be stolen (what kind of low-life steals a wheel chair, for goodness sake?), nor should I wheel down certain streets at night, as I might present an attractive target to muggers. Finally, I should have a baseball bat in my apartment just in case of a home invasion or other late-night visitation. Ah, home sweet home! The same friend that warned me about wandering alone on the streets and having a weapon inside my apartment told me that his friend, a little tipsy, had left a local bar at night from the rear entrance into an alley. Two large guys jumped him from behind and beat him up so badly that he Page 33
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